"Tamora Pierce - Protector Of The Small 1 - First Test" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pierce Tamora)

Kel was deaf and blind to the spidren's approach. Later she could not recall hearing the monsters
scream as arrows thudded into its flesh, just as she could not remember the arrival of her brother Anders
and his men-at-arms.
With the spidren's death, its web rope snapped. The thing hurtled past Kel to splash into the river.
A man-at-arms climbed up to get her, gently prying her clutching fingers from their holds. Only when
Kel was safely on the shore, seated on a flat rock, was she able to tell them why she had tried to kill a
spidren with only stones for weapons. Someone climbed the bluff to retrieve the sack of kittens while Kel
stared, shivering, at the spidren's body.
Her brother Anders dismounted stiffly and limped over to her. Reaching into his belt-pouch, he pulled
out a handful of fresh mint leaves, crushed them in one gloved hand, and held them under Kel's nose. She
breathed their fresh scent in gratefully.
"You're supposed to have real weapons when you go after something that's twice as big as you are,"
he told her mildly. "Didn't the Yamanis teach you that?" During the years most of their family had been in
the Islands, Anders, Inness, and Conal, the three oldest sons of the manor, had served the crown as
pages, squires, then knights. All they knew of Kel's experiences there came in their family's letters.
 "I had to do something," Kel explained.
"Calling for help and staying put would have been wiser," he pointed out. "Leave the fighting to real
warriors. Here we are." A man-at-arms put the recovered sack into his hands. Anders in turn put the bag
in Kel's lap.
Nervously she pulled the bag open. Five wet kittens, their eyes barely opened, turned their faces up to
her and protested their morning's adventure. "I'll take you to our housekeeper," Kel promised them. "She
knows what to do with kittens."
Once the animals were seen to and she had changed into a clean gown and slippers, Kel went to her
father's study. With her came a small group of animals: two elderly dogs, three cats, two puppies, a
kitten, and a three-legged pine marten. Kel gently moved them out of the way and closed the door before
they could sneak into the room. Anders was there, leaning on a walking stick as he talked to their
parents. All three adults fell silent and looked at Kel.
"I'll do it," she said quietly. "I want the training, and the right weapons. Anders was right. It was stupid
to go after a spidren with stones."
"And if they send you home at the end of a year?" asked Ilane of Mindelan.
Kel took a deep breath. "Then I'll still know more than I do now," she said firmly.
Piers looked at his wife, who nodded. "Then we'd best pack," said Ilane, getting to her feet. "You
leave the day after tomorrow." Passing Kel on her way to the door, her mother lightly touched the eye
the village boy had hit. It was red, blue, and puffy - not the worst black eye Kel had ever gotten. "Let's
also get a piece of raw meat to put on this," suggested the woman.
The next evening, Kel made her way to the stables to visit her pony, Chipper, to explain to him that the
palace would supply her with a knight's mount. The pony lipped her shirt in an understanding way. He at
least would be in good hands: Anders's oldest son was ready to start riding, and he loved the pony.
"I thought I might find you here," a voice said as Kel fed Chip an apple. She squeaked in surprise. For
a man with a limp and a cane, Anders moved very quietly. "You know we'll take care of him."
Kel nodded and picked up a brush to groom the pony's round sides. "I know. I'll miss him all the
same."
Anders leaned against a post. "KelтАж "
She looked at him. Since the incident on the river the day before, she'd caught Anders watching her.
She barely remembered him before their departure to the Islands, six years ago - he had already been a
knight, handsome and distant in his armor, always riding somewhere. In the months since their return to
Mindelan, she had come to like him. "Something the matter?" she asked.
Anders sighed. "Do you realize it's going to be hard? Maybe impossible? They'll make it tough. There's
hazing, for one thing. I don't know when the custom started, but it's called 'earning your way.' It's just for
the first-year pages. The senior ones make you run stupid little errands, like fetching gloves and picking